He flies up close to the glass where we’re sitting and blows her a little kiss. She pretends to catch it, and his smile turns into a handsome laugh.Dammit.
Then his blue eyes meet mine, and he gives me a wink. It’s a flash all the way to my toes, and of course, Haddy sees it.
“That wascute.” She pushes her elbow into my side, and I feel my cheeks burning.
“He’s a really great dad.”
“I bet he’s really great at other things, too.”
She has no idea how great.
Gavin skates up to the glass sending kisses to Haddy, who lifts baby Lucy out of her carrier for him to see. She waves her little arm, and he laughs, waving as he skates backwards to the guys.
“Not sure how much of this she even understands.” Haddy quickly wraps her in her blanket again, stowing her in her carrier with a small pair of noise-cancelling headphones on her head.
“Still, it’s adorable.”
Maddie is on her knees beside the baby, lifting her little arm and saying, “Go, Champions!”
The Jumbotron buzzes, and their signature mix ofQueen songs “We Are the Champions” and “Another One Bites the Dust” plays loudly as fans blow air horns.
We watch the pictures of the guys in their uniforms and helmets flash by one by one on the screen, and everyone yells loudest for Mav and Gav, who established their reputation last season as the dynamic duo.
The Colorado Cliffs glide out, and a player circles straight around to Mav, bodychecking him into the boards.
“What the fuu…dge?” I yell, realizing just in time we have a seven-year-old with us now, not that it makes a difference.
We’re surrounded by infuriated fans dropping F-bombs, and the guys cluster around, ready to fight. The guy who did it throws his gloves on the ice, and the Champions’ Number 8 skates to the center of the rink.
“Who is that?” Heather leans close, grabbing Haddy’s arm.
“Chris Schultz,” Haddy answers, pointing to the guys. “He’s the enforcer. Price is the captain. Akers is the goalie…”
I duck my head, wondering if I should put my hand over Maddie’s eyes as the guys start punching each other repeatedly. The linemen circle watching them, but not interfering.
“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Maddie yells, and I look over at Heather, confused.
“Is this okay?” I mouth to her, and she grins, nodding.
I bend down to her level. “You’re not scared?”
“Oh, no.” She shakes her head, frowning at me. “Fighting is part of hockey culture. It’s what they do.”
My eyebrow arches. “Who told you that?”
“My daddy.” Maddie lifts her chin, confident in her knowledge. “It’s part of the game, but you only fight on the ice.Neveroff.”
I mean, she’s not wrong.
“You’re really smart.” I pat her back. “And so grown up! Only very mature people understand that.”
“I read third-grade books.” She blinks her big brown eyes at me.
It makes me grin. “I can tell.”
The two big guys beat each other around the head for a few minutes, a jersey is ripped, but it’s not too bloody. Then they each skate to their respective penalty boxes to do their time, and the game begins as if nothing happened.
The Cliffs are our biggest rival, and they play hard. We watch the guys skating back and forth on the ice at top speeds, slamming into the boards, stealing the puck. Hancock’s stick is broken, and Price tosses him a new one.
